


storia di un grande amore

by behzaintfunny



Category: Football RPF
Genre: ...lots of it, A Milan fan making Juve!Leo angst, Alternate Reality, Blood, Fluff and Angst, Leo has issues, M/M, Mentions of choking, Metaphors, Nightmares, Religious Imagery & Symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-13 01:35:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14739605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/behzaintfunny/pseuds/behzaintfunny
Summary: "Maybe red was never his color after all."





	storia di un grande amore

**Author's Note:**

  * For [brampersandon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brampersandon/gifts).



What a beautiful sight it is when blood falls to ground. If you look closely, you can see all the hope that has been drained with it. It latches onto ground like we, onto each other.

A masterpiece in the depths of his mind, yet the simple most alluring thing. When he looks down at his feet, it is almost unbearably realistic. The soft grass underneath should feel comforting, when in reality it feels troubling. Unnerving. Wrong.

Somehow, here, before his eyes, the red doesn't mix up as well as he'd hoped it would. Maybe red was never his color after all.

As he strides forward, it is through thick waves of blood, sweat and tears. The only thing keeping him from backing out is the constant jeers ringing in his head. He thought he was alone in this but the voices prove him wrong. From the day you wear the armband, cursed as it may be, you _never_ walk alone. He remembers Alessà telling him that, on the soft plush of his couch basked in the comfort of the fireplace. He hadn't thought it'd be that serious.

As the fluids reach the middle of his legs and there seems to be no horizon, an ache in his knees causes him to collapse. He feels like Jesus during _Via Dolorosa_ , laughed at and put to utmost humiliation, though in his case a walk of shame would sound more appropriate. He's kneeling, fully submerged in the red liquid that makes itself welcome in his lungs. In a strange way, it is almost comforting. His hands find their way to the front of his chest and assume the all too unfamiliar position. He coughs but to no avail. The tips of his fingers meet, his knees hit some sort of rock bottom and he swears he can hear bells in the distance.

Bells, maybe, or a whistle, he cannot tell. He could never decipher a religious experience from his most sacred one.

He cannot remember one prayer to save his life. He tries, furiously trying to ignore the speed at which his lungs fill, but sleeping in religion education has proven fatal.

There is one, the only one he can think of... _No. It can't be._

_Oh, but it is._

He thinks, _"Come un abbraccio noi e ancora non ci basta."_

He can feel tears beginning to escape his tightly shut eyes. Maybe it's the blood pouring through, it's hard to tell. His heart pounds with a newfound hope, one he cannot bear to let go or it will be the end of him. It will leave him on the bottom of the red ocean, dead and forgotten, all but glorified.

_"Ogni pagina nuova sai sarà ancora la storia di tutti noi."_

He cannot feel his legs anymore. They could be disconnected from his body and he wouldn't even realize. Not that it matters. The only thing with sheer importance is the oddly familliar tune he sings in his mind. It may be the only thing that can save him.

He opens his mouth only to let in a myriad of blood and start choking. Though he has reached the bottom of this abyss, he feels it edging to open up under his pained knees.

Then, a strong hand at the small of his back. Its touch is soft, almost too much so, so soft that he almost missed it completely. Somehow, it feels like so long it's there, he will not drown. Not yet.

Another one, a firmer one, slides all the way from down his abdomen up to where his heart is hidden under layers of arrogance, ignorance and irony. He can feel it pressing onto it, like trying to save his life before he had even lost it. _Or had he?_

Then the barest touch of lips on his cheek and somehow, he knows.

He whispers, _"Solo chi corre può fare di te quello che sei."_

It reverberates through the thick ocean of blood like a vibration coming from the heart of the Earth. He opens his eyes, curiosity getting the better of him, only to see the hand that saved his life. He tediously moves his head, fighting against the dense liquid that tries to restrain him.

He sees a familiar pair of blue eyes amidst the disgusting crimson, right beside his cheek. They look into his own, encouragingly and with so much pride it can hardly be fathomed.

He wants to say something, _needs_ to say something, but he is stopped by the sudden touch of those all too familiar lips on his own. He throws his head back and eases into it, like it's the last kiss he'll ever get to experience. The tounge that works its way into his mouth sends a shiver down his spine. As the kiss deepens, he feels significantly _lighter_. It is as though all the crimson blood that has settled in his lungs has finally found an escape route.

As the kiss ends, he feels _light_. His knees meet no floor no more, and his body slowly makes way for the top. He cannot stop his hand from trying to reach out and successfully caresses at the man's bearded cheek.

"Gigi." Leo whispers and it is almost enough, "Thank you."

He is rewarded with a smile, that much he can tell, before he is abruptly sucked back to the surface. His eyes shut close and his face adorns a grimace. He breathes the newfound air in greedy breaths, savouring each one as though he was reborn.

He desperatly clutches his face in his hands and feels the tears finally emerging. Whatever this was, it is over.

The tears are his most genuine evidence that the red did not savour him whole.

He is still Leo. He might drown in his own tears that slowly form a little puddle in the basket of his hands, but he is still Leo.

"Are you okay, _amore_?"

The sudden questions awakens him from his moment. He looks up desperately, the artificial light hitting his eyes almost too painfully, only to see the very source of the voice leaning against the doorway. He stands up to his feet abruptly and he _runs_ , like he has never ran in any football match in his career, like his life depends on it. He runs and catches the man in a hug that is just on the edge of too painful. The skin on skin contact causes another gutwrenching yelp to escape his lips as he mumbles it against the familiar neck.

He feels a hand rubbing comfortingly at the small of his back, "It's okay to feel like this. I'm sure Andrea would be delighted if he knew you of all people cried for him."

_Andrea..._

Leo looks down, almost out of instinct. His eyes open wide in awe.

"You were so anxious that when you fell asleep I didn't want to wake you up. I'll let Andrea know you're not eligible to start. It's okay."

Gigi doesn't need to know the truth, or Leo doesn't necessarily want to tell him. Not yet.

He wriggles out of Gigi's embrace and forces his hands to clutch at his jersey. It's white. Not the perfect white he invisions himself wearing, the one he adorned this time a year ago, but it is more than enough nonetheless. Gigi's hands pull at the front of the jersey like he expects them to, just as Leo's own find their way to craddle his shoulders.

"Don't you ever let go of me." Leo says, enunciating each syllable almost too much, "Don't let me go where you can't follow."

Gigi leans over to leave a soft kiss in the middle of his forehead. He looks him in the eye and nods, passion so true shining in his eyes Leo feels incredibly small under his gaze.

_"Never."_

**Author's Note:**

> This is the effect three songs had on me: the Juventus anthem (Storia di un grande amore), Great Wide Open by Thirty Seconds to Mars and Oh Lord by In This Moment. I encourage you to listen to them to get the full experience.
> 
> Encouraged by all the incredibly positive feedback on "Time to say goodbye", I'm now more inspired than ever. Yay!
> 
> As always, kudos and comments make me want to go on. I love you all, thank you for reading. <3
> 
> (+ if some metaphor isnt clear i'm happy to clear it up!)


End file.
